


Friede's Bad Morning

by MrsLittleleaks (MrsLittletall)



Series: Soulsborne Omo Stuff [12]
Category: Dark Souls (Video Games), Dark Souls III
Genre: Desperation, Friede is not the nicest person to the Painter Girl, Gen, Omorashi, Pee, Urination, Wetting, female omorashi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-02
Updated: 2020-06-02
Packaged: 2021-03-04 04:28:33
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,069
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24507685
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MrsLittletall/pseuds/MrsLittleleaks
Summary: This work contains Omorashi which is a trope about pee desperation and wetting.Sister Friede just wants to have a normal and peaceful morning, but the Painter Girl trying to run away constantly forces her to change her plans, unfortunately before she had a chance to visit the outhouse...
Series: Soulsborne Omo Stuff [12]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1473239
Comments: 4
Kudos: 5





	Friede's Bad Morning

**Author's Note:**

> Request from the Omorashi board.
> 
> Note: Because of the weird nature of Omorashi, I prefer to not rate the fic and I chose to not use archive warnings, so that you know that you will get into something that isn't exactly super wholesome or fluffy to a lot of people. Please leave now if you aren't into pee desperation, I am sure there are plenty of other stories that are more suited for you.

For the Undead it wasn't necessary to eat or drink anymore. 

Still, Friede liked to have regularities in her every day life (or unlife) and even though she couldn't taste anymore, she had found out that she instead could focus on the texture of the food and the temperature of the drinks. She had experimented a lot with cooking and found a breakfast that felt perfect for her, scrambled eggs roasted to just the right amount of crisp, a fluffy loaf of baked bread and a steaming hot can of tea. The tea was especially important, because it made her feel warm from within, something that usually only the embers could do. 

A downside to taking in meals was, that her bodily functions got reactivated, but as soon as the issue had arisen, Sir Vilhelm had installed an outhouse to use. It also was better for the Painter Girl, who wasn't undead and needed to visit the outhouse even outside of eating or drinking, but Friede made sure that she never went alone. She couldn't risk the most important girl, the only one who could create a new Painted World, to run away and because of Gael's long absence, the girl had gotten rather nervous lately.

Sister Friede had started her morning like usual, by getting up, getting herself dressed, checking on Father Ariandel, feeding the Painter Girl and then preparing her own breakfast. Sir Vilhelm was nowhere to be seen, but it was common for the knight to make his rounds through the Painted World in the night up until the late mornings. Unlike Friede, Sir Vilhelm didn't manage to fall asleep easily. 

Friede had sat herself down and enjoyed her meal, savouring every bite, making sure to feel the texture with her tongue, getting the most out of the meal despite not being able to taste anything anymore and then rinsing the feeling off with the hot tea, the warmth blooming from inside her chest. It was Friede's ritual every morning and she just wanted to enjoy it, when she saw a small figure dressed in a brown dress and long, white hair sneaking out of the cathedral. Or, trying to, because Friede was up in a second and crossed the distance between her and the Painter Girl in one jump, snatching her long dress. 

“Where do you think you are going?”, Friede hissed, upset that her morning routine got disturbed. 

“Sister Friede, please...”, the Painter Girl said. “It's about Uncle Gael. He... has been away for such a long time, I am worried.” 

“Well, when I remember correctly it was you who told him to get you a very specific colour.”, Sister Friede scoffed, dragging the girl back inside. “There is no need being worried about that old coot, he can handle himself. Now, go back to your painting.” 

The Painter Girl gave Friede an upset look and she was already looking forward to see what he girl had on her tongue, to put her into her place, but the Painter Girl apparently bit on her tongue, because she walked away and climbed the ladder to the attic. 

Friede sat down again and continued to enjoy her tea. She needed to finish it before it got cold, cold tea would do nothing for her, so the disturbance soured her mood a tiny little bit. She couldn't even let it out at Vilhelm, with the knight not being around, so she drank the next cup of tea a lot faster than usual and poured the next one. 

Just as she was in the middle of pouring the cup, she saw the same white and brown shadow from earlier from the corner of her eyes. Spilling a bit of tea as she shot up, Friede soon had dragged the Painter Girl back. 

“Again?”, she hissed. “Let's see if I let you have milk for tomorrow's breakfast...” 

The Painter Girl's eyes went big and then she averted her gaze, shifting from foot to foot as she made a lame attempt to defend herself: “I, uh, actually had to use the outhouse.”

“You know exactly that you have to ask me first before you can go.”, Friede said. “So, excuse me for not exactly believing in your words.” 

A frustrated sigh escaped the Painter Girl and she said: “Sorry... it won't happen again.” 

“Now here we have a good girl. Now go back and paint.”, Friede commanded. 

The Painter Girl went back to the ladder, her feet dragging behind and Friede returned to her tea, upset because it had started to get lukewarm in the meantime. She finished the tea, a bit too quick maybe. She then got up and put her dishes away, cleaning them and went to choose the literature she would read while guarding the cathedral and serving Father Ariandel for the day, when she realized that there weren't any sounds coming from above. 

Sprinting up the ladder, Friede saw that the Painter Girl indeed was nowhere to be seen and when she sprinted outside, she already had managed to cross the bridge halfway. It was no trouble for Friede to catch up to her and she loomed behind the girl, which turned around because of the shadow falling on her and froze.

“It appears I can't leave you out of my sight.”, Friede hissed, dragged the girl back a third time this morning, personally delivered her in front of the painting and took a seat next to the ladder. “I seems I have to guard you personally.”, she said in a threatening voice. “I could lock you in again, but Sir Vilhelm is having the key. You should be glad that I let you roam the chapel freely and see, how are you thanking me?” The painter girl only looked at her with defeated eyes and picked up her brush. 

Friede watched the girl for a short while and once she was satisfied that the girl would concentrate on her painting, Friede opened the book she wanted to read, occasionally glancing up to make sure the girl wouldn't run away, even though she was bound to notice, because the ladder was the only way out of the attic. 

Only a few pages in the book, Friede noticed a sting in her bladder. Of course, she didn't had the chance to flush the tea out of her system yet and she also had drunk it a lot faster than usual, because of all the... delays.

Normally that wouldn't be a problem, she could visit he outhouse any time, but as unruly as the Painter Girl had been this morning, she couldn't exclude the possibility of the Painter Girl running away once she was relieving herself. Especially because Friede wasn't exactly able to run after her while she was pissing and because of her undead nature, getting water out of her system usually would take a while. 

Friede shifted a bit in her seat. If Sir Vilhelm would be there, she could ask him to go watch the girl while she went to the outhouse, but he wasn't there, so she was forced to hold. Whatever, she probably could hold it. She often was rather busy with serving Father Ariandel, watching over the Painter Girl and commanding Sir Vilhelm around, so that she was used to holding. She should easily be able to make it until Sir Vilhelm arrived from his nightly patrols. 

However, whenever Friede was forced to hold, her mind normally was occupied enough to put her need at the back of her mind. At the moment, because she was mostly watching the Painter Girl and reading a book she already knew, her thoughts tended to wander back to her bladder. Friede casually crossed her legs, not wanting to make it look like she was in need and flipped another page of the book, watching the Painter Girl from the corner of her eye. She was still painting, sometimes stopping and taking a sip of water from a jar nearby or stopping and investigating the canvas before continuing. 

Friede's best chance to get some relief was Sir Vilhelm coming back. Normally he would come back in the early morning hours, but judging that it had been past breakfast time and he still hadn't returned, he probably had been hindered on the way back to the chapel. While he was strong, the creatures in the Painted World, that was rotting away for a while now, were also strong. It could also be possible that he had died in a struggle and while he was Undead, he very surely had toucher another bonfire on his patrols, so that he wouldn't get transported back to the chapel upon death. Friede was on her own. 

For now, Friede decided to hold in and wait a little longer, there was still the possibility that Sir Vilhelm arrived soon. She put her concentration back on her book, trying to not think about that her bladder was filling up more and more as her system worked through the tea in her, changing the position of her crossed legs all so subtlety every few minutes. As Friede looked up to watch at the Painter Girl, she noticed that the girl had stopped painting and stared at her, probably because of how fidgety she was. 

“What are you staring at?”, Friede snapped at her, already in a bad mood because of her interrupted breakfast, because of the state of her bladder and because that damned Sir Vilhelm wasn't there when she needed him the most. 

“S... sorry.”, the Painter Girl said and continued to guide her brush over the canvas. 

Friede sighed and closed her book. She couldn't concentrate on reading anymore, she had read the last paragraph probably for five times and the words didn't want to stay, even if she already knew the book. She carefully uncrossed her legs and leaned forwards a bit, trying to squeeze her crotch at the chair, so that she would be able to hold out a bit longer. Though, with Sir Vilhelm still not having returned, she doubted that he would make it in time for her bladder. It felt like it wanted to explode in the next ten minutes. Just as Friede had finished this thought, she could feel a warm dampness in her underwear and sneakily stuck a hand under her robes to give her crotch a squeeze. 

Friede certainly was running out of time. One possible solution would be to let Father Ariandel watch over the girl for a short time. No, that wouldn't work, he was tied to his chair and wouldn't be able to catch her when she ran away. Should Friede just take her into the outhouse with her? No, the Painter Girl was small, but not small enough for both of them to fit into that tiny outhouse. Should Friede find a respectable and just relief herself into it while watching the girl? No, that wouldn't work either. One, the Painter Girl would easily be able to run away while she was busy and two, she didn't want to lose her dignity by doing something so undignified. 

Friede took a deep breath, she just needed to relax. As Friede steadied her breathing, her mind went to the outhouse and how awesome it would feel when she could let go of all this water, let go in one concentrated stream, just sitting there and relaxing as her body was getting the relief it craved. 

Friede gasped and held her breath as she shook herself awake from her daydream, that was the opposite effect of what she had wanted! She even felt new warmth in her underwear, indicating that another leak had escaped. Friede crossed both of her legs together hard and glanced to the Painter Girl, hoping that she hadn't picked up on her predicament. 

Friede was lightly surprised to see that the Painter Girl wasn't painting anymore. Instead, she was shifting around from foot to foot, having a rather uncomfortable expression on her face and once she raised the brush, she lowered it again in favour of grabbing her crotch. It was clear as crystal for Friede that the Painter Girl had to go quite badly herself. 

Before Friede could even raise her voice, the Painter Girl turned to her and asked: “Um... Sister Friede... C...can I go to the outhouse...?” 

As expected then. While there was no reason for Friede to deny the Painter Girl her need, that she herself was holding and unable to get relief, was enough for her to deny the Painter Girl's request. 

“No.”, Friede said. “Hold it.” 

“B..but...”, the Painter Girl said and then added in a meekly voice: “I.. I have to go really bad...”

 _You are not the only one._ , Friede thought as the Painter Girl shot a last pleading look to her and then sighed in frustration, picking up the brush again, trying to paint while one hand was holding her crotch. The sight amused Friede and made her own predicament feel a tiny bit easier to endure. 

It only took five minutes for the Painter Girl to give up and attend Friede again: “P..please, I have asked... Why can't you come with me? Then I can't run away...”

 _Oh, because it would be poor torture for me to having to hear you piss._ , Friede thought but didn't say out loud. Instead, she said: ““I believed that I told you to hold it. You are a big girl, aren't you? Surely you don't want to soil your dress...”

Friede was more than aware of the irony in her voice, because she was minutes away from soiling her own clothes, shivering on the chair. Friede closed her eyes and took a deep breath, trying to convince her brain that she didn't need to piss, that it all was just a figment of her imagination, but it only ended in her bladder giving out a good spurt, dampening her underwear even further. 

As Friede opened her eyes, she saw that the Painter Girl had left the canvas and was walking into a corner. “...What are you doing...?”, Friede asked, knowing that she would give the girl a good punishment if she would water the floor. 

“I am sorry...”, the Painter Girl said. “I can't anymore... I am going to burst...” 

“Don't you dare...”, Friede warned and winced when she heard the sound of a wooden object slammed on the ground, turning out to be a bucket.

“...I am sorry.”, the girl said again, lifting her dress and pulling her underwear down. “I will clean it out, I just can't anymore...”

Friede hold her breath as she realized that the Painter Girl indeed was going to piss into the bucket, torturing her overfilled bladder by making her watch and listen to her getting the relief that Friede so craved. That it had been Friede herself who denied the girl to piss, completely slipped her mind. 

Both of Friede's hands flew to squeeze her crotch, cursing Sir Vilhelm for having been late today of all days, as she heard the stream of the Painter Girl drumming into the bucket followed by a content sigh and a relaxed expression on her face. 

That was too much for Friede's bladder. She needed to piss. Now! She didn't care anymore, she only needed to be empty! She shot up, cursing as she felt gravity rushing all the urine in her downwards, crossing her legs as she awkwardly shuffled to the ladder, still tortured by the sound of the Painter Girl's strong piss stream. Friede swung her right leg so that she could find footing on the ladder, only to realize that she had made a grave mistake. 

With nothing holding her her bladder back anymore, Friede could feel how the most intense stream she had ever experience poured out of her, saturating her already damp underwear in a mere second, running down her legs, forming a steamy puddle on the floor below her before dripping down on the rungs of the ladder. She couldn't help but sigh at the feeling, despite her soiling her clothes and the floor and doing something very undignified she couldn't help but be glad that her body could finally relax. However, that soon turned into anger. 

If the Painter Girl hadn't been a little brat this morning and had stayed where she was supposed to stay, then she wouldn't be in this situation, hanging halfway down a ladder while pissing out what felt like a river. Her stream was so strong, that once it had completely doused her clothes, it would just continue to drip out of her underwear, almost in a straight stream, if not for the urine running down her legs too. Friede's cheeks blushed in both anger and in humiliation and for the first time this morning she was glad that Sir Vilhelm wasn't there to see her pissing her pants. As she looked up again she saw the Painter Girl standing in front of her, holding the bucket. 

“What? Are you here to bask in my humiliation?”, Friede growled, not being able to change her stance until her body was finished, what took ages. She did had a lot of tea this morning after all...

“S..Sister Friede, I...”, the Painter Girl said, averting her eyes, “I was going to ask if you needed the bucket too... I... thought you maybe needed it...” 

“Well, it certainly is too late for that now.”, Friede hissed, feeling how finally, finally the ruthless stream eased into a trickle. After it had ceased completely, she climbed the ladder back up and was looming over the Painter Girl, trying to look as threatening as possible despite being dripping wet and covered in piss. 

“That is alone your fault.”, she growled. “You will clean up this mess while I get cleaned up. And believe me, once Sir Vilhelm is back with the key, I will lock you up again! You will have to piss and crap in that bucket for the whole next week!

The Painter Girl flinched before saying: “Y... yes...” 

“Good, then get started right away.”, Friede said, climbing down the ladder, wincing whenever she felt some still warm urine touching her feet or hands. She also made a note to seriously scold Sir Vilhelm for being late. This truly had been one of the worst mornings she ever had.

**Author's Note:**

> I had to work my headcanons into that scenario, because Sister Friede is canonically an Unkindled and therefore Undead (we even see her revive two times in her boss battle). I hope you enjoyed. Please write me your thoughts into the comments.
> 
> Are you a bit surprised about Friede using such strong language? I like to think that she mostly puts up a mask when she talks with the Ashen One and actually is a pretty big potty mouth. That is also why she didn't use ye olde english in this fic.
> 
> Four requests are remaining. Don't worry, I haven't forgotten anyone, I just decided to write the stories first where I already have a clear scenario in head.


End file.
